


I Must Wait

by RoseAndPsyche



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAndPsyche/pseuds/RoseAndPsyche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They also serve who only stand and wait." –John Milton</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Must Wait

_We do not forget you as soon as you forget us. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us…All the privilege I claim for my own sex, is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone._

~Persuasion

* * *

In Sparta, it is said that when a boy reached manhood and became a warrior, his mother would give him his shield. Then she would tell him, "with it, or on it."

No warrior could return unless he was victorious. Sparta was a hard, brutal society where nothing mattered more than military prowess and honor. They believed in fighting to the last man, even when they were surrounded and outnumbered ten to one. They would either be victorious, or die.

Don't ask me to count the times I've stood on the battlements of Cair Paravel watching my brothers and even my sister ride away to war and wonder if they would return with their shields or on them. They were warriors, they would fight to the end; they would be victorious, or die.

When I was in Narnia, I was called 'Gentle'. I suppose it is true; my heart is not inclined to war and my hands are made more for healing than drawing the string of a bow. But I would argue that nothing can be truly gentle that is not very strong. My hands are strong enough to string my bow, but in their strength lay their gentleness. We see strength when strong men lift great weights, or swing their swords, but often we do not see the strength when we thread a needle to stitch up open wounds, or put gentle hands on the shoulders of a weeping friend.

They rode away to war, but I stayed behind because it was my duty. My faith was often shaken, but on the outside, I had to remain calm, I had to keep my head as I watched for their return, battling my own terrible fear as they battled the enemy.

Waiting is worse than the battle itself. There is strength in waiting, a different kind of strength than the strength of battle. In war, fear of death is quickly replaced by battle rage; when I wait, I have nothing but my fear…and my fragile faith.

Lucy was supposed to be the one with the faith, we could always lean on her to strip away the frivolities, but when I do not have her, I must have faith of my own, weak as it is. Edmund was supposed to be the wise one, we could always count on him to think of something brilliant, but when he is gone, I must be brilliant on my own. Peter was often called the rock, but when I cannot turn to him to hold me up, I must be the rock. When I am alone, I must be all of them.

I waited, I watched and I wove at my loom. I kept my country running even though I might never see them again. I watered my roses when those I loved might be dying; I listened to the talk that flooded around me.

"She is so gentle she cannot ride to war."

But I am strong enough to wait.

Now they have ridden again to war and this time, they have returned on their shields. They are dead, all of them, swept out of my grasp like chaff at threshing time.

Now I must wait again; wait and watch until my time also comes and we will be separated no longer.

* * *

 _They also serve who only stand and wait._ –John Milton

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be doing schoolwork, but while studying about the Greek city-state of Sparta, this, unfortunately, slipped in. It's based on our idea that Susan can be both strong and gentle, that she doesn't have to be a warrior woman to be tough.
> 
> Susan, tall and lovely as a rose,
> 
> Her gentle fingers softly soothing
> 
> All their many hurts and woes,
> 
> And like a rapier blade, unbreaking.
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked it.
> 
> ~Psyche


End file.
